Page 102 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

Talula shook her head. “I’m not worth waiting for.”

“You’re worth the world, Talula.” Dahlia chuckled. “But I’m not going to make the wait easy on you.”

Talula frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean”—Dahlia leaned into Talula’s ear, dragging her mouth down the ridge to nip at her lobe—“the next time I see you, you’re going to know I’m thinking of my lips and all the places they want to go.”

When Dahlia pulled her mouth away, Talula almost fell down. Then Dahlia threw her arms around Talula’s neck. Talula hugged her back, letting out a sigh.

Slowly, they broke apart.

Talula stood in the cold, watching Dahlia slide into her car. Talula pressed her hand to the passenger window, her heart full. Dahlia leaned over the center console. She laid her hand palm-to-palm with Talula’s through the glass. They smiled at each other for a moment; eventually, almost painfully, Talula pulled her hand back and walked up the stairs. As she closed the front door behind her, she caught a glimpse of the street. Dahlia was still there, idling in her bright red car, hand still pressed to the glass.

26

It was Monday morning, and Talula was behind on her translation work. It was no wonder. She just couldn’t get the night before out of her head. She had already walked into two different pieces of furniture and one door replaying the way Dahlia had felt against her mouth. Simon had asked her if she was haunted.

But when Talula wasn’t thwacking into things thinking about that kiss, she thought about the questions Dahlia had asked.

Did Talula even want her Magical Destiny? To be the Guardian of the Volta? Her whole life, it had seemed like a forgone conclusion. Had Talula ever stopped to wonder if it was really her dream? Or had she spent years beating herself up for not meeting her own impossible standards?

Talula stared out the window and thought about what she did want. The answers came immediately. She wanted to improve her magical abilities—it was an extraordinary part of herself that she wanted to embrace. She enjoyed helping her magical community find sanctuary. She also liked feeding them. She didn’t like that she had to say goodbye to them forever as they disappeared into their new lives. Talula wanted to visit all the places they went, see new sights, and learn new cultures through food and friends. Just like her old chef mentor had offered years ago. But she also loved her human community, just as much as she loved her magical one. She’d always wanted to be a part of both. To be a chef and to be a sorceress. But was that even possible?

“Simon,” Talula called, setting her pencil down. “If you weren’t a sorcerer, what would you have wanted to be?”

Simon, splayed out in a square of sunshine on the café’s rug, replied sleepily. “A sorcerer.”

“What if being a sorcerer wasn’t an option?”

Simon yawned. “Back then, you were a sorcerer, a shepherd, a priest, a soldier, a farmer, a tradesman, or the village idiot. Sorcerer was the best option.”

Talula’s phone buzzed.

“Can’t you turn that thing off?” Simon whined.

“Nope.” Talula glanced at the phone. “One of these calls might be Mom.”

Talula still hadn’t heard from Sara about her return home or how things were going with the trophy hunters. Simon, likewise, hadn’t heard about the lost wildlings or any other missing magical beings. But they did have some news; someone from the Council was coming to expand the town’s protective barrier any day now.

So no, every time Talula’s phone had beeped, it hadn’t been Sara. Though it had been beeping—a lot. Talula had woken up to dozens of notifications, all of them about Samhain. Vendors texted to confirm their spots (including a few who had canceled), called to review details, and overloaded her email with updated contracts. Thanks to the new performers and vendors Talula had hired to replace the old ones (and ensure the most epic Samhain ever), there were more i’s to dot and t’s to cross than ever.

After responding to the text, Talula leaned against the back counter and slid to the floor, mentally reviewing everything she was worried about.

Her mom.

The trophy hunters.

Samhain.

The town hall meeting about canceling Samhain.

Her sorcery skills.

The Magic Box.

Dahlia.

Dahlia.